Trapped in Character
by apple2011
Summary: Abandoned, ambushed and alone; I was transformed from such humble beginnings into an immortal actor of sorts whom, with my mentor, created and extinguished mortal characters in a world limited only by our imagination. I captured the attention of the Volturi, scores of unknowing mortals, and for time I was complete, then the Cullens swept on stage. Bella/Alice
1. Humble Origins

Looking back, I think blinding is the right word. Blinding pain, making James's attempts to torment me look like a slightly enticing walk through the park. Memory is a fickle thing and yet that day sticks out.

I remembered walking, or perhaps hiking the better phrase. In what I presume was an attempt to relive my memories with Edward, deep in the forest where I first found out the truth. Well the first of many tiny truths, the big one was when he told me I wasn't good enough for him and left me to rot. I'm nearly sure I'd be less bitter towards him if she hadn't caught up to me.

A flash of red, that was the first sign. In retrospect that should have set off alarm bells but it was nearly twenty years ago in my defence. Technically speaking that was two lives ago and it really does feel as if that Bella was another person. Another person who met her end when that red flash, turned out to be hair, a flurry of it in fact which hit me faster than a blink.

Victoria, she may be a psychotic bitch, but you had to admire her on principle; she lost a mate and decided to extract revenge by reducing my bones to powder. Slowly, one by one over the course of about an hour. No biting though, poor thing didn't trust herself not to loose control and rip my throat out; that really would have spoiled the torture. I'll hand it to her, she managed to resist the few drops of blood which oozed out once she had thoroughly shattered my hand.

Screaming was a constant, a shrill thing that would have rang through the woods and alerted any and everyone, or more accurately they would have done if anyone had ever heard them. Begging, that stopped quickly; she really was in no mood to listen. Reasoning with the illogical nightmare proved futile, it didn't matter Edward had left, he would never hear of my death and it wouldn't bring her mate back; the torture mattered, it mattered a lot.

To cut a long story short, which incidentally is how Victoria imagined my eventual end. She went a little more crazy than usual towards the end, instead of biting it was cutting. Using those long black daggers she called nails; the few parts of my body that hadn't been reduced to powder were a web of bloody cuts. She actually resisted, quite impressive for a lunatic; I would have found it interesting but I had a lot of other things on my mind that day.

"Victoria." I recall a dreamlike voice being not a greeting but a note of disapproval. Posh, medium in pitch and distant in my pain racked mind.

"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times; playing with your meals is wrong." Maybe his phrasing could have been a little better, though he was, in fairness, talking to the vampire; not the now silent mortal who had lost too much blood to talk.

"Henry? What are you doing here?"

"I think the better question is what are you doing here? It seems like a lot of work to drag someone all the way out here, though I must say I associated torture with your mate. Speaking of those with more bestial nature than sense, where is James, I do not detect his scent?" Again my first impressions of this man weren't good, he seemed more concerned with civility than me but then again I was still alive; somehow.

"Ahh I see, dead? Don't answer I can tell, hurt always manifests itself in the minuscule ministrations of our facial features. I can also see hatred, fury and a desperate need for violent relief; that would indeed explain the mortal." The man, even then, could not resist showing off his affinity to comprehend emotions from such subtle canvases.

"Yes, dead. This little sweetie here killed him." She spat with both literal and implied venom. The man felt closer as my eyes began to blur, not just because one was filled with blood.

"Impossible." I zoned out for a short time, barely hearing Victoria concede who actually killed James, then the man's tone brimmed with anger.

"Victoria, you would assert you strength on a mortal who had the misfortune to be lured into the arms of a vampire? A natural response to our kind, which you well know." Firmness crept into his voice now, Victoria who had until this point I believe been leaning over me got to her feet.

"A mate for a mate." The declaration was met as I returned to reality. A short, sharp laugh followed.

"If they were mates he would not have left, if they were mates she would have been protected. Your own logic betrays you Victoria, you are blinded by blood-lust towards a foe far out of your reach. Enough of this, release her." He commanded her with force, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and undertones of threat.

"I will not, if I can't have him, he can't have her." A screeching growl followed, I assumed she attempted to intimate him, again the blinding pain makes any understanding on my part less reliable.

"Who is he? Who is the person you call into being? Name him. Is he James or Edward? Which do you want more, him to return to you upon shining stallions or blood? Don't even answer, we both know what underpins your lust." His voice either became lower through hissing threat or because my dying form was tuning the world out, of course it didn't dull the pain.

"Then what do I do? Just forget? Just allow him to get away with it?" Victoria seethed, her voice I believe was breaking...maybe she was trying to sob if that was at all possible.

"At the very least hunt the right person, from someone who has lost and loved a hundred times, place blame where blame is due!." That angry demand coincided with my breath becoming so short I could barely feel myself. Victoria made a noise that was neither dependant on anger nor resonating from depression.

"You won't let me finish will you?" Her sombre tone was the last I heard from her as a mortal, either Henry nodded or simply waited. Then a blurry image which I would soon know only too well appeared over me.

"I would give you the option, my dear, however it appears that your ability to cognitively function is damaged beyond mortal repair. I apologise in advance, but Victoria must not fulfil her aim of destroying you, lest her learn the wrong lesson from our encounter." With that, something very sharp and cold sliced into my shattered shoulder. How he found an intact vein is still a mystery and yet in that moment I blacked out.

The subsequent pain was a breeze compared to the torture part of my afternoon, or at least it was at first. Then came the nightmares upon nightmares and the intense, indescribable pain which went beyond all comprehension.

In a shimmering haze Edward left me time after time, the entire Cullen clan turned and tore into me again and again, and a few times Victoria returned with torturous instruments so perverse and cruel, they defied the imagination. Those all came to me in graphic detail, with only a shimmering to the outline of my mind to separate them from reality. More of course crept into me, loved ones betrayed or killed; Alice in particular was torn apart and burned more times than I care to remember. Though at the end of each dream I awoke, only to find myself ushered into another wave of nightmares that never seemed to be content with destroying my emotional state.

Silk, the oddest thing was after an eternity of torment; I awoke on silk sheets. An odd creeping cold sensation tempered by a smooth enveloping softness. Little did I know then that it would be the beginning of a trend that was only excused by the luxury of the material.

I was laying under a carefully folded silk quilt, positioned on a king sized bed with four transparent violet curtains drawn to give the spacious room a visible blur. Unaware of anything except the burning sensation at the back of my throat.

"Hello?" I called out expecting my voice to crackle under that burning pressure. Instead I sounded clearer and more alert than ever, something which inspired me to peel back the soft curtains and expose myself to a room that should have been reserved for a princess.

Ornate wooden furniture, beautifully decorated with exquisite carvings and tactically placed to leave no more than a few feet of carpeted floor bare. The carpet was a blood red river running through the room, curving into an imposing wardrobe and a delicately balanced, three legged, table with an assortment of ink inscribed papers lying gently on top.

At the time it was the most beautiful room I had ever seen; paintings hung leisurely on the room depicting an ancient looking city, three almost translucent individuals on a balcony and if I recall a woman of formidable stature. In retrospect I would have appreciated the room an infinite amount more had I not been on the verge of impossible tears, while also trying to place the sudden burning and icy chill.

Indeed had the windows not be closed with layered white curtains; I would have laid eyes on a obsessively maintained garden and could have laid on the enticing Chaise Lounge or even the armchair had it not forced one to look into the silver lined mirror, that panned the length of an overly large window.

If I had time to focus I may have even wondered why every material in the room, the cushions, carpet and curtains; were a variation of silk or alternatively, and albeit rarely, velvet. I had no time to ponder any of the mysterious that the details of this room possessed, perhaps that was a good thing in hindsight because it drove me out that room and into a corridor which impressed almost as much. A stretching hall lined with vibrant violet with white wood panelled walls and painting after painting seemingly built into them. Portraits of people,places that events I didn't have time to study. I was of course told what each and everyone of them was after the event and I would have recognised quite a few I had taken the time to study, though it must be said newborns are not renowned for their intellectual consideration.

So with all my appreciation over and done with I followed the only lit corridor, more accurately the only one with heavy velvet curtains not restraining the natural light. Eventually leading me to the end of a line of portraits of people I didn't stop to recognise, then it was a simple walk down a twisting marble staircase.

"Ahh, she finally awakens, please do enter, my dear girl." The man's voice was the least remarkable aspect of the room I then found myself in. I would later learn the lessons of presentation and yet I was a confused girl who entered an exquisite dining room. The staircase was built into the structure of a token pillar on one side of the room, two real entrances existed behind gold lined oak doors which looked seldom opened. Four fireplaces were lit for a reason I was never able to find out and the table was an odd clouded glass, covered by a silky cloth which only hinted at the obsession I would soon uncover.

As for my host well I found him rather odd, not least because he was sat dead in the middle of the table, on a cloudy glass style chair while folding a paper and sipping a glass which made my stomach burn. It was the first time my nostrils filled with the sweet smell of human blood which was promptly poured into a wine glass.

"Bella, do you mind if I refer to you as such?" I don't believe I ever actually answered him, instead I studied the man who had until this point been little more than disconnected voice. The reality of the man was both what could have been expected while also holding elements to the contrary. He was a tall man, exceptionally thin with the trademark pale skin of a vampire. Though he was considerably older than any vampire I had ever seen ,he looked as if he was in his fifties and well defined wrinkles were sown all over his form. His hair was more of a greying mane than a style and yet kept so neatly it stood unmoving.

Though apart from wrinkles and grey hairs there was little else which defined his age; his face was clearly defined and had a pointed shape which effectively framed all of his features. His blood red eyes were sharp and focused on me with narrowed precision. His mouth was so thinned it bordered on non existent while it somehow completed him.

So that was the man who had saved me, dressed in a burgundy jacket which attempted to shroud his thin form which was covered by a white shirt devoid of all creases. At the neck was something that was neither a scarf nor a tie and yet was wrapped in something resembling a bow. When I did not answer he gestured to the seat next to him.

"Please, do sit; a discussion must be commenced before it can be concluded." I moved so quickly towards the glass, my reflection glittered on the chandeliers which hung dangerously above; lending the room a shadow and its roof, a crystalline shine.

He chuckled as I greedily emptied the glass in moments, I thrust it out for him to refill it and he complied with nothing but a smile.

"I had forgotten the thirst of the newborn, I suppose it has been longer than I care to consider, now I suppose you have questions..." He seemed almost reluctant and yet I had only one.

"Why did you save me?" I had asked, he looked perplexed for a single moment before casting aside with a confident beam.

"It wasn't personal I am afraid to say, Victoria is an old acquaintance who had until recently been defined by her mate. A rather unpleasant individual if I must indulge in the unhealthy habit of speaking ill of the dead but my story goes back a little further." His voice, while never leaving a serene tone that was neither to high too low in pitch, quickened and slowed with unneeded irregularity.

"My presence was called for on the tail of a tour which has, until recently consumed around seven years of my life. My intention was to visit an old friend whom I came across in the midst of a migration to the north, the briefest outline was given when the tale of you and his eldest son was imparted to me." His eloquent speech just managed to prevent the pangs of crushing anger that occurred during that time when I heard the Cullen's mentioned.

"I intended to seal my tour by brokering peace, however Victoria proved elusive and it was almost two months before I caught up to her, though in that time she had caught up to you." The pain was still a fresh memory to my newborn state and I recall him almost laughing at my deepened growl.

"Yes, I once held Victoria in some esteem, she was a very talented young lady before her conversion and yet when she met her mate, well, his influence was of a negative disposition. I did not want her to continue on her path so intervened. You were the direct result of that, I do apologise if it was not the fate you intended," Looking back laughter may have been an appropriate reaction to that, it had been my biggest wish until the moment he left me.

"Who are you?" The question seemed to almost delight him and the subject would never again solely focus on my incident with Victoria, which considering the pain was just fine by me.

"My name is Henry, I have had many last names and forsake the covens? That is the name they use now is it not? I am one of the very few recognised ancient vampires, being some measure older than the Volturi. So old in fact I have at some paint laid eyes on all the wonders of the ancient world, in that time I have constructed many houses, this old Gothic design begin my favourite. I have known many of the great men which define mortal and immortal world alike and yet I do not conduct myself as a vampire usually does." Henry has a way of telling you not to interrupt without actually saying those words, its something in his tone, a trick he used on me for the first of what would be many times.

"While my Athenian origins tell a story it is one so old, speaking of it would only allow long dead embers to glow in my mind once more. I became a vampire approaching the twilight of my life and upon receiving this gift I precoded to indulge in the more vulgar aspects of existence. Time thankfully rendered such indulgences pointless and an odd habit of existence followed, I was an actor and my condition accelerated my abilities." Honestly he explained in such a roundabout way I wish it was possible to put it into simple English, it is however not possible.

"I find life in a one place, simply feeding tedious so instead prefer to act, staying true to my roots. I create characters, mostly in the mortal world, and give them life, tell their story and naturally depart from them when the time is right. It is a cycle I have perfected over the years, I have played popes, kings, queens, great men, questionable men, warmongers, diplomats, aristocrats, peasants and so many more. Characters consume me, then die; from there I journey the world seeing the sights. I've ancient cities degrade, entire civilisations collapse and new ones arise from the ashes, but there will be time for my stories later." He smiled leisurely and by that point I had lost count of the bloody glasses I consumed.

"You show remarkable restraint." He muttered to himself, peering at me with a frown.

"The last time I met a newborn he devoured an entire bottle before I could blink. Regardless that leads me into next aspect of my tale." He spoke certain aspects like a grand announcement, I thinks he's always been aware of it.

"I have had many quittances over the years who have joined in my journeys, many of which I personally transformed. Preforming as duo, well it carries a certain charm that very little else can rival. A charm that requires mutual duality. So that is the basics of my tale which could be summarised so briefly, I have enough stories to entertain you for eternity but I don't have that long." I saw the appeal immediately, for a foolish girl who had been overcome with depression over a boyfriend; escaping seemed ideal.

"As a creator I'm afraid I have very little to offer you. If you desire a home then you may use this manor, I don't intend to return for quite some time. It is in a place of relative comfort, but it becomes tedious after a time. If you wish to be free of me then please you may leave immediately, you show remarkable restraint I doubt you will cause any incident, and I have no claim to you or designs on your independence. You don't know me and yet I have a feeling a fresh start in a world you control would be appealing, a new person, a new life and there is no commitment. This sort of life can only happen if your heart is in it." He illustrated the offer eloquently and looking back I know why I accepted. I wanted a fresh start, from the Cullens no one else; I ignored my family, friends and all those I would leave behind.

So I accepted, at first to run and then as we began to plan the new lives we would lead, began to obsess over details, began to work out how to mask ourselves, create personalties and the pieces fell together. Henry hadn't been exaggerating when he spoke of his acting abilities, though they were not solely his. As a vampire his ability, or gift, was to alter the perceptions of those around him, something that I would have preferred to the shield I ended up with. Only because the amounts of make-up and dye that were needed to alter my appearance to the fit the character was plain ridiculous.

I should clarify, Edward's leaving left me devastated and I think that continued for quite some time. It was some way into the plot myself and Henry had crafted did I wake up one day and realise I had not even thought of the Cullens for a year. It was a big enough move to accept Henry's offer and simply chase after them. Though after so long on Henry's diet of human blood which, he keeps bottled like wine, I'm not entirely sure I could abandon it. The vast blood cellars Henry had were more than worth it, the older the better he said and I can remember drooling when he celebrated with a very sticky concoction from the twenties. So I did get over them leaving, I think and found myself engrossed in a new life, or more accurately a new character.


	2. Stay with me

Seven years, the first of my characters was simple enough and the pivotal story of her life was to be told over the course over the course of seven summers, in Henry's words. Training came first but the period was so brief even in my mind it is, and was, inconsequential. It all boiled down to three rules. Never break character, though there were a few exceptions. Never leave a character's story untold and never deviate from the plot line in absence of agreement. There were a couple more lessons but they were spun in the form of recollected tales that never ceased to amaze.

"As a general rule I do not indulge in the unhealthy habit of actively playing a vampire in the presence of our kin. Aro himself made such a request of me in the form of an demand which in turn took the form of a threat. To put a complex tale in its simplest form, once I played Venrir; a vampire who rose to the highest ranks of the Volturi guard. His character however I crafted as morally bankrupt and I was drafted into an attempted coup by the once occupant of the now redundant fourth throne. I broke character however at the allocated time, intending of course to fake my death in the coup, but no battle occurred in a timely fashion. Aro was amused as my power holding back and confusing his guards dissipated and I announced myself." After explaining the brutality of the Volturi and the structure of their enforceable world, I pondered why he was allowed to live.

"You should have been there, the court of the Volturi is rarely brought into stunned silence and yet this time I was able to render both sides of a coup with an affliction of tranquilly. I eloquently illustrated my powers and how I had used them in my endless endeavour to exist in the highest fashion. I apologised to the friends of Venir for my deceit and that my integral role in the coup would no longer be an asset to them, which in turn caused them to curse my name as their plan collapsed in little more than a sentence. Of course my monologue was interrupted but it was done so rudely by a man who lacks both civility and decency, a man whose blood thirst blinds him and whose pride defines what little character he has. I speak of course of Caius who suddenly demanded my death!"

"Aro, a patron of the arts and understanding, was too amused to order my death, that in the members of the coup were quickly whisked away to their execution, thanks in no small part to me. At the following banquet, to celebrate the victory and because banquets are too rare, Aro requested I not repeat my performance and to ensure I keep the promise I made, I do not play vampires. I also would not recommend you follow the example of my youth, the Volturi then were a powerful faction among many, mercy and consideration were needed for their followers to obey and not join rivals. Now they are the sole power who enforce their law with a strictness that would cause the fair Philip's daughters to accept their father's punishment with open arms." He warning came in a cryptic historical tone that went too far back for me to care. Something to do with a French King and his adulterous daughters. It was however the last lesson I ever needed and planning became our focus.

It's an oddly engaging pastime, creating new life using nothing more than instruments of paper and ink. Details matter and yet I was given the lead of the project, I was supposed to prove myself by engaging both Henry and myself using six "archetypes."

"Plots that history and art have rendered so mundane, entertaining using their framework becomes neither a thing of beauty nor an offensive display to the mind. Neutrality defines them and yet if one can take these age old concepts and bring dimensions anew, it is the mark of true skill and may align you closer with our ventures." He explained once prompted, he had seven archetypes and he not yet explained his fixation with the number seven.

By this point, after the whole torture thing and vampire conversion bitterness and cynicism had replaced torment and despair. Already I had felt enough pain over the Cullens and desired to forget them, that in itself was subconscious goal I achieved only with patience and time. Though this state of mind gave me outlook on the world that in hindsight was as disagreeable as it was fruitless. It did lead me to a Romeo and Juliet style storyline and after Henry had immortalised William Shakespeare in fond recollection, we began dismantling his story.

Unsurprisingly the character I decided to craft was an exaggerated representation of what I saw myself as, when with Edward at least. It had an view upon matters of the heart so cold it reduced them to meaningless by-products of more subtle influence. Love, the very heart of the original plot was transformed into fixated obsession on the part of myself. An obsession which became less and less about love and into a thing of warped passion, while youth became a thing of poison, which I assume was my former state of being attempting to mature into what I am now. Finally after a great magnitude of changes, suicide became murder.

Retrospect forces me to confront the mistakes I made in the construction of this being. Mistakes Henry argues we naturally come to see us such only after the plot has been completed, we both spent some time lamenting our choices but moving on is easy when the person you were is a thing of fiction. Or at least that is what I keep telling myself.

Helena Sphere was the name of choice, for reasons that eclipse me even today, and what I gleaned from this experience was I needed to spend more time considering names. Helena I assume was to fit in with Henry who decided to keep his first name for the purpose of the minor being in his dual role. Citing his first name was familiar enough to pass for a quaint family tradition which led into the first role he was to play ,that of an elderly grandfather and guardian. A role he played less and less as the years went on, in order to facilitate his second role as the foil to my lust. The gender switched Juliet who gained wisdom and age but in turn lost the crucial emotion which led to their tragic ending.

Henry for his part did very little to encourage or commend my choice of plot, though he would later reveal he preferred participating in the plot than considering a prologue which will never speak to the heavens or an epilogue that will feel short lived and unworthy.

"All of us will find misgivings with the those we once were, however it is important to seize the moments that shine with the intensity of a dying star. One short lived, yes, but thunders through the midnight sky to touch our fickle hearts." Was the exact phrase if I recall correctly. As for the planning however quickly it came to an end and we departed the Gothic manor with little fanfare. A brief dinner, or what constituted as it, of fine blood which came in varying quantities and quality in the various cellars he kept in operation. _Edwardian -1935 _I believe was the particular strand the man eccentrically saved over the years.

Our ideal destination was a smallish town, several states away. A home had been purchased, furnished and on the dining table I found three neatly laid out envelopes containing the three identities we had manufactured. How Henry had organised things so thoroughly, and how he had managed to extend his fascination with silk to almost every aspect of the home, still elopes my understanding. A week later I, or should I say Helena began her sophomore year. I'm not entirely what it reflects upon me that I was able to pass as so young, hopefully it was more to do with the vast amounts of make-up that I'm almost convinced fuelled over half of cosmetic profits during those years.

Helena was an interesting adaptation, one day I was Bella Swan living with Henry and the next I was Helena. It was almost surreal; constructing a web of deceit which became the beating heart of our story, it felt like walking into a dream. The first year held nothing eventful, a few friends were made but quickly forgotten with the brief exception of dear Rebecca who was Helena's best friend. Truth be told we would never have associated if I was still myself, she was a party prone girl with pretty tendencies and I acted the foil of inexperience to her outgoing character.

The few friends I collected over that year, and to some extent the subsequent year, were unexpected elements to the plot. They were unplanned, had no role and yet they gave Helena a sense of fluidity and organic nature, little by little I was drawn into her. The affixed accent, the certain look of disgust at the mention of sexual activity we perfected over the years, and the spur of moment requests and invites which made me think through Helena's filter to reach an answer. As for any decision that turned out wrong or caused friction, Helena was a cushion; the life that never was which would be affected by what transpired. Of course I got invested and there were times my heart plummeted when a close friend was rejected by a love interest, overwhelmed by life and all its lows which are needed only to define the highs.

The second year however, now that was the beginning of my downfall and Henry's chance to shine. Before he was the doddery old man who existed only as a token guardian to give Helena a grounding in reality. In the second he became Philip Mercriss, again the name could have done some work but if I recollect correctly I needed a last minuet surname and like my plot borrowed from the play with a few letters amiss.

I must confess even now I have absolutely no idea what Henry appeared as, even before my transformation I had been possessed an immunity of sorts, now I was burdened with a shield that washed his disguise away. Oddly enough I could manipulate my mental ability and yet, it never allowed me to see anything other than Henry in all the normality he lacked. From what I gathered and more precisely what I was told he appeared as a youngish English teacher who was able to command the crushes of his teenage students.

At first we were entirely distant with neither of us showing any particular attention to the other, even when we alone as child and guardian he refused to break character and I only approached him on the matter once. He feigned ignorance on that occasion.

"Miss Swan, when we consider the protagonist what is the crucial aspect in relation to them and the narrative." Were his first words to me, they too had been planned. I gushed and clammed up as intended and from there he called on me for answers more and more. Lessons after school hours followed and it was during one such session, on a late November evening that Helena began to like Philip Mercriss more and more. By the time the winter frosts had gently receded into the flowering warmth of spring, she had a diary full of her obsession.

At first it was a secret, something she was ashamed off and yet like the character she was based upon, the opinions of others began to matter less and less. She became overly content, chirpy and droned on and on about the teacher who captivated her attentions. I found it oddly distancing, Helena seemed to push everyone away and I noticed and felt both powerless and empowered. I was expecting for someone to laugh or scoff about how I came across, how I was clearly putting on façade but it was either never noticed or no one cared enough to call me up on it. Helena became an extension of me, just as much a part of me as my useless unmoving heart.

To put a story so long it consumed seven years short, the realities of existence forced us to make a move, it was not part of the plot but passed without discussion and was done more to combat the lack of effective ageing on our part. Even Henry could only make us seem slightly older but nothing on the scale we needed. He did have a stylist who in his words "could make even the most imperceptible line become a beacon of beauty which shines unparalleled to the flaws of the natural world." In absence of such a person however, we made a move.

The move in retrospect was more than likely part of Henry's behind the scenes work, he would lament on his labour after the event in order to expose the subtly of the world in which we moved. He did have a fondness for the three act structure, and I wonder if he manipulated events to formalise our plot in three clear acts. Either way in our second location the plot developed, of course it had less action than the subject matter but for a first attempt it was serviceable. Here however Helena naturally progressed to the deeper obsession I had been waiting to introduce.

This Helena mirrored my preceding months in Forks after Edward left, and incidentally by some bizarre irony this was around the time I awoke to discover the Cullens were no longer at the forefront of of my mind. The plot this time had Helena so possessed she spoke to nearly no one and people began to notice. Teachers, students, and other parents watched, confronted and wondered about the strange girl who followed her teacher to another school. The plot obviously did not intend for us to move, or at least my notes did not indicate such, though it was fitting that the suspicion arose and in my mind Helena's move was influenced by the desire to follow Mercriss.

I wish I had actual interactions with Philip, ones that I could draw on and expose moments of natural sparks of tension. Had he been real then maybe that would have been far more possible, instead I had to paint an image of someone who was obsessed. Being heard raving about his incredible qualities, seen trying to speak to him at all hours of the day and force the general consensus that Helena was a deranged , I did so with a flourish and I had a obvious suspicion that Henry wanted exactly that.

If I recall correctly, and time has not done justice to the details, the so called second act of our plot existed only to bring us through the years and entrench the burning obsession which captivated my character. The midpoint I believe involved a restraining order and expulsion, the end point after an array of stalking and dramatic flair, Henry's grandfatherly character died. Leading us into the third act and the third move.

Helena's back story was not covered in the greatest detail, it being largely irrelevant to the plot other than what came up in simple conversation. Though we established early on her emotional recourse came from a grandfather who grew sicker and sicker which each passing year, his death was a catalyst for the final scene. Though before I recount in the detail it deserves, I should establish the characters in their final context

Helena was a crushed teenager who represented the darker side of love, she of course was the extreme version of the now distant Bella Swan who Edward abandoned. She had money yes, and used it follow her former teacher in another move which was planned since the earliest days of our plot. Rejected, beaten down and belittled over the years, left her with nothing else to lose. Only now she was alone in the world, leaving only her fixation to cling to. She hit rock bottom and yet was left with no means to advance. She was the perfect image of what unrequited love can inflict.

Henry as Philip Mercriss meanwhile was doing far better, reaching his thirtieth year he had secured the position of lecturer at a college. Helena of course followed but to his knowledge she was no longer a problem, he was designed to be naive after all. He was climbing higher and higher, yet there was one thing holding him back. The dark haired girl who he met seven years prior, who had followed him even once her high school years had ended and then came our moment.

Unkempt and wild hair framed a face of despair on a cold winter morning, sloppily applied make-up and over applied mascara gave me stained tears to imply desperate madness. Deep blue contacts filled my eyes with a furious lust, every gaze became predatory. Intentionally I starved myself of blood to quicken my pace and give the impression of hunger with every slow twitch of the claws I created from fleshy hands. I became a rabid thing, devoid of basic civility and clearly awash with anger. Yet underneath those baggy torn clothes, which stripped me of decent and dignity with every waking motion, I was excited. It was like being on a roller-coaster which at long last was reaching the peak and preparing to plummet.

I attracted attention, but our move had been done with the intention of limiting the vigorous police response which would have resulted in our previous location thanks to Helena's antics. It was probably assumed I was a student returning from a wild party, a few people did shout out but they were irrelevant to our grand design so I paid them no heed.

The lecture hall was where I found that Henry had dressed himself to be the effective contrast Philip Mercriss was destined to be. Pinstriped suit, silk tie, and confidant swagger to every movement, what the world say when they observed him was beyond my perception and yet I saw the character within him. Underneath that aged skin and greying hair, which to the observer might have been full of plump colour and a lions mane of flowing locks.

He perfected the look he gave me, as I thundered mid-class to the amazement of his students. Confusion, recognition and a spark of fear which would grow into an inferno, I was the centre of the room at the moment was seized. Elegantly I swept down a narrow staircase, silencing the whispers by turning to Henry, no Mercriss and for the first time Helena looked down upon him.

"Helena." He greeted in a word which summarised our entire history with its connotations of harshness, cautiousness and a touch of sympathy. To the character I was the girl he once favoured, then she stalked him, sent letters by the dozen, scratched her name into his property and threatened any woman who went within a mile of him. Yet I was once a student, a student who fell victim to an obsession he could not control.

"I will call security," His warning allowed a subtle smile to play across my face, I moved a step towards him, my raggedy clothing becoming almost a robe which trailed gracefully across the floor. I can still feel the exhilaration of that moment, it was as if my blood was flowing once more.

"Of course you will," I spoke so slowly it was almost painful. Engaging the audience who were able to witness our grand finale. The voice didn't fit, it just didn't, it was too villainous, to mocking and yet it was to be the basis of she who came next.

"Is that not our history, I appear and express my undying, unobstructed love and you have be dragged away so you can hide behind ignorance!" I demanded looking him dead in the eye with anger which I quickly melted into despair.

"You don't understand," I whined, moving a hand to my eye to impress upon them the illusion of a tear. I then stretched it forward to reach out to the man Helena loved so, he didn't move. His nature was to stand his ground, to diffuse situations and yet that was to be his fatal flaw.

"Why could you never see me as what I was? Someone who loves you more than you could ever imagine, someone you could always rely on and yet when met with this truth you opt to send me away, to throw me to the wolves of existence." I made out through long, deep feigned breaths.

"Helena you don't love me, you never did, you never will. What you have is an obsession, you love the idea of me not the reality, you have done for years. Perhaps in some way it is even my fault, had I noticed earlier maybe I could have prevented this, maybe you would still be that sweet girl who everyone adored." I glared then, a hate filled fury which struck him and our audience with a creeping shiver.

"Not you." I spat, forcing my voice to return to its anguished and yet infuriated state. Everybody watched, transfixed. I had expected laughter and still cannot understand why they did not scoff as this desperate display, whatever their reasons our act continued.

"You never could bring yourself to love me, not the way you should. Not the way that could bind us together." Those words signalled to him it was time to speed up the performance, there was little need however as security had already been summoned and their scent filled my nostrils.

"Who out there, could love you more than I?" I shouted with the rage that burned through Helena at this latest rejection and yet, it was to be her final one.

"What is in their hearts, that mine cannot supply?" I continued with such force Henry took a step back and the students were given the impression this was not going to end well.

"Choose me." The words were unplanned and yet while the character of Philip Mercriss had no grand choice between lovers, I think it was Helena's voice exposing her intentions. Henry often said characters came alive in our minds, just perhaps not so literally.

"Choose me, accept me for who am and accept us for what we should be." I demanded as the doors to the lecture theatre opened and whatever passed for security stormed in.

"I'll make it clear." I spat, I'm still annoyed I didn't have enough time to address Mercriss or illustrate my intentions further. Though before the word "clear" had even entered the air, the cold metal of a gun was in my hand. Philip Mercriss, was in the sights and Henry mastered the blazing fires of fear as his eyes stared into the barrel.

"Helena." He breathed as the room adjusted to this sudden change, though those words were chosen because they were the beginning of an attempt to reason with her. To reach the girl she was and make her see sense, but they were also not an answer. They did not give Helena her completion, the answer she needed.

Philip Mercriss fell, the metal roared and he took a step back. Looked down towards his chest and gasped, a fleeting defiant action that was based partly on disbelief and partly on his new-found reality. Then he tumbled to the floor, blood seeping out and calling to me and my resistance was a proud moment. Ignoring the benefits of a tasty meal I placed the barrel to my own skull, locked eyes with the students who cowered away or watched with twisted fascination, and fired. Helena Sphere went to her grave, dragging with her the man she loved.

"My dearest Bella, your mastery of that scene speaks volumes beyond your character, it shows the very foundations of you as an actress so dear to my heart you may have become an extension of it. The plot was perfectly manipulated to service our beings, the characters were so flawed they weaved their way into the folds of the mortal society and set themselves high above them. The news of our endeavour should spread through this world like wildfire and it is your ingenuity which kept these last seven years intact. From our comedic beginnings in that tiny town, where light-headedness opened a scene that could have led to humbling and inspirational tale like no other. Yet you introduced an element of lust which became a cancerous toxin, consuming our world and façades. Eating way at our star being and leaving nothing but despair, a story of beauty my dear." Henry announced grandly that same afternoon, escaping with little more trouble than finding the replica bodies and a bribe for the morgue staff.

Now with a change of clothes and a lack of disguise we sat in a small dinner not too far away from the little town, neither of us eating or drinking but lamenting. It was an odd feeling, being called Bella again and going without notice by the mortals around, as if I was leaving a crucial part of my anatomy behind. For hours however we ignored these feelings, only later would he tell me that the characters become part of you and leaving them behind can be as painful as losing a loved one or limb. Throughout we discussed what had been, referencing obscure events which told a tiny story as part of a greater plot, everything just came together.

"The look of despair which was devoid of all fault, the voice gave you an air of villainy and built up tension which captivated the room. The slow subtle movements made you a dangerous predator ready to strike at the first sign of the rejection we both knew awaited miss Sphere. You did a tremendous job with your own design which may have exceeded even my capabilities, though not only did you wear Helena Sphere, you lived her. Every moment, it was divine."

"Helena will remain with us both for some time, an example we either defy or correct. Mercriss, well he was the facilitator and yet his flaw was patience, had he reacted sooner well, he may have lived." Henry from this point referred to both Helena and Philip as actual human beings who were not described as characters as such, it was as if we and them were old friends whose attributed and characteristics merged seamlessly.

"Now though it is time to forgo ourselves, what has been and what will be. We have contained ourselves in areas devoid of all interest but what we created. From here we go on Bella, from here we journey around this globe and see its wonders. Then we return to begin the cycle anew."

Indeed that what happened, and what consumed us for three years subsequent, or more accurately two years and three months. Twenty seven months, Henry did not break his rules under any circumstances it seems. Though with Helena out of the way another period of existence did follow and yet it would bring me back into the path of those I fought a battle with my own mind, to get away from.


	3. A Criminal Affair

You must forgive me for indulging in the unsavoury habit of interrupting an established narrative for the sake of my own interjection. In absence of such behaviour however I fear a great disservice will be done to my dearest protégé whose innate modesty prevents her from seeing innate grandeur and vast array of enviable features.

Had I known when I first met Bella, just how dear she would become to me then I would have torn Victoria apart limb from limb to spare her even the tiniest inconvenience. Victoria may be an old and dear friend but in recent years her lack of empathy and violent propensity has made her an unpredictable and altogether different women. Of course that was evident from the moment her mate slithered his way into her life, a man of no talent, virtue or any notable quality besides a capacity for inflicting, and enjoying, the torment of others. His death was not an unhappy occasion, but to his credit he meant something to Victoria and that ensured the date was not one of merriment.

Speaking frankly and openly confessing to one's flaws is an apt way to understand oneself and to that end I am forced to admit the moment I met Bella Swan I felt very little towards her. There was not as drama would wish, a moment of star stricken realisation that she was where my future would be set aflame. Instead there was pain, blood and heartbreak, elements of drama which perhaps dealt the hand of fate slightly more effectively.

I must indulge myself for a moment, my love of memory and tradition bleeds over into my lifestyle and while most explanations have been dealt out by my dearest Bella, she lacks some of my experience and wisdom. I of course knew of her existence long before I met her, having long been a close friend of Carlisle I was kept abreast of the clan's movements. Not that my interest was overly peaked, despite the novel ideal of a vampire and a mortal falling in a love, it was tainted by the modern world's trend of repetition and like their unfortunate diet I chose to ignore it.

My journeys eventually allowed me to visit and what perhaps I did not mention to Bella is that I caught them halfway to Alaska, and after dealing with the necessary pleasantries the circumstances dictated, knowledge of their move came to fruition and my immediate intention was to broker peace before Victoria could extract her revenge. I was too late in many respects, but in others I was right on cue.

So after dealing with an old friend, one I wished to return to the path of decent civility, I was faced with a choice. Change the broken girl lying at my feet, caked in dirt and blood as her life spilled away in volumes or leave her to die. The choice was made and with that, my world changed for the better.

I took her to my manor, knowing full well the crime scene would tell a bloody story to the world she left behind. I left her a bottle of blood and the old place was laid out to lead her directly to me, I was expecting the usual frantic run around of a newborn as she ran screaming to my sealed larder. Instead I found myself impressed beyond reason at her impossible, implausible and incredible control. She was calm, drank almost slowly and with some resemblance towards manners. My offer for her to join me was made long before the words left me and it was cemented without regret the moment Helena and Phillip came into existence.

While it is impolite of me to speak ill of the dead I never found much attraction towards Phillip Mercriss, he was always the more boring character and while I have brought lesser men to a thousand lives there was something about him I both loved and despised. I managed to give him a personality outside of Helena, a skill that worked to my benefit and his detriment as the plot unfolded around us. As to reference my protégé and dearest daughter I must break my rule of referencing the lives we live as characters, I shall do so in dazzling compliments.

The first character is usually the weakest and yet Bella put the world to shame. From a shaky beginning my expectations were defied, reconstituted and defied again. Every line felt alive, every motion was not that of an actress but a person; Helena and Bella merged into a seamless whole as the tragic story was ushered into existence. Her descent was measured, and perfected. The girl who dressed modestly was reduced to an unwashed, barely clothed lunatic who possessed elegance even in her final moments as that fatal gunshot ended her life with the thunderous applause she deserved. I would lament further on this but this is a story told and taught. Instead we moved on and by the time the sun set we had returned to the manor.

My usual ritual involves holding a funeral for our dearly deceased and placing a single item of value in a crystal glass case. Bella chose a ring, a ring given to Helena by her grandfather on his deathbed. A ring she would cling to as the world crumbled and then in desperation use it to scratch her name into Mercriss's car. I chose nothing, Phillip was not a character who needed remembering. He was an extension of Helena, an entity brought about by my own skill and a good measure of luck; without Helena he was unworthy of note. So on a velvet cushion and sealed with a glass lid Helena Sphere was laid to rest. The next day we departed.

I was determined for all my sons and daughters to experience the journey I first took when I became a vampire. After indulging in vile and base instincts I was able to grow and expand, creating the many layered being who adores his many lives today. Though one is nothing without his home, and my home lies in the ruins of Ancient Greece, of course Athens still stands but it is not what it was when I was a man of any age. Yet I go there, not to remind myself of long dead memories but to rejuvenate and motivate myself into growing with every passing generation.

From Athens we journeyed by boat across the Mediterranean to the shores of Egypt which I remember in all its glory. Not least because I was a pharaoh or two but because it was and is a testament to preservation. I took Bella to see my largest and grandest tomb, ransacked by myself in the 19th century to prevent another getting the treasures which now line my northern home. The burial chamber still stands of course, my sarcophagus is a thing of beauty as are the golden letters carved so delicately into the walls. I could lament for hours on it, and I did while and Bella listened to every story I told. Laughing, crying and in her mind's eye she returned my ancient friends to life.

Usually at this point I visit Aro and Marcus, mentally blocking out the other leader to the best of my ability, however it was unwise. Italy was always beautiful but it was a slight hindrance on this eastern journey as it required yet another trip across the sea. Now a tour of Europe that was always spectacular but introducing a young vampire with the ability to resist the powers of others to Volturi? It was something that had to wait for a time.

So I would have to swear off Aro's delightful company, I always make time for me and him to see an opera or two and when Bella was older she would accompany us, as have so many of my children. He would adore her of course, as he did everyone, but he was also destined to try and steal her away. His love of drama would not prevent her being relegated to a life royal but dull coven. It was of course her choice but it is a tradition to make this first journey to the eastern realms where I found myself before my company is abaonded.

I will confess the politics of the world intrigue and irritate me, while new realms of mortal thought are always appreciated they can be cumbersome when inane and irritating methods of governance block my journeys. I never actually took the journey south to Arabia in my first year, though considering what I missed I should have done, but covering up Bella's face with a veil or cloak was an affront to my decency as a vampire as well as all the aesthetics in the world. So we skipped it. Instead we continued east, soaking the sights, dealing in culture and improvising every line.

Improvised characters are just that, while our long term projects come to life to delight and intrigue us improvisation is left where it is. Though it certainly entertaining; once we were a father and daughter travelling to make our fortune with an invention Bella thought of at the top of her head. Another time we accidently solved a series of crimes as private investigators in a sparkling capital city, the subsequent crimes I committed myself because petty crime is boring, serious crime turns the stomach while exaggerated acts of criminal enterprise can bring the world to life, they are rare. Still it was quite fun solving the few real cases which weren't entirely devoid of interest. Of course we had to flee that one after about a year, not intentionally it's just someone wised up to what we were doing and my plans to conduct a grand heist led to a very hasty exit.

South East was the next direction subject to our whims, once upon a time I would have paused to sparkle in the sunlight, myself and Bella being able to control our appearances made our true forms an infrequent relief. This time we skipped that for the most part, the walk was substantially less interesting without an East India Company to irk for a spell.

Now after another long walk, a mountain climb and an accidental journey into a jungle or three, we made it through to China. Not being a fan of concrete we avoided the modern cities like the plague, also they might not be a fan of me complaining about their changes. Modern cities wouldn't have been entertained as a thought if an Emperor had been on the throne I tell you that, shame about all those revolutions; though I must confess it was probably my fault for taking the place of a preceding emperor, secretly adopting an illegitimate child and giving it to that frightful dragon lady. Moving on from that however, as I already had, we resolved to explore wherever my sensitive tastes would not be offended.

We managed to see the few palaces and baths that haven't been tainted by the sprawling metropolis that defy everything I ever stood for and ever will, Bella went to see them of course. She even managed to get pictures of the summer palace, which I adore for a thousand reasons, without the city lurking in the background like the ever growing rot most of them are. I suppose I'm bitter and resistant to the modern world but when you make everything grey you're doing something wrong.

Now I could continue complaining about the state of the world, the out of control concrete slabs modern culture I barely tolerate and of course the street merchants who make some of my dear, but deceased, courtiers would roll over in their graves enough times to cause a minor sinkhole. Thankfully however we moved on from the cities and enjoyed the beauty in the classical world, the Great Wall for example; of course I saw it back when it mostly grass and mud, then in all its stone glory and back to a delayed ruin. I still hold in a high esteem, possibly because I was one of the many emperors dedicated to its renewal.

We didn't do a lot of improvising during our time in China, mostly because only Bella could do it. She was more willing, if not eager, to see the relentless expansion of the modern world and I wasn't prepared to even tolerate it. Though I had the same reaction to the industrial revolution, and I was perfectly justified and proven correct then as well.

So with the eastern aspect of our journey concluded it was time to travel back, now as far as I'm concerned the journey to ancient China was the driving force in my earliest years. The journey back was less important and thanks in no small part to those relentless hordes carving it up the world, the map and almost me at one point; I have almost no idea which route I took. So with that in mind I tailor the experience to the tastes of my son or daughter of the day.

With Valerie, at least I think that's her modern name, we were lucky enough to join the Huns in their great migration to the west, with the late Jonathan, who tragically died saving some poor girl in an asylum for someone I never actually found, we joined with Mongols and the victory meal is still one of my favourite dishes to date. Katie, or Kate if I must, was a walk into the thriving colonial world. As for Bella, well the modern world has deprived of us of great armed expulsions and migrations so we simply journeyed. We briefly took up residence in the mountaintops after fleeing from an angry mob after pretending to be fortune tellers or something along those lines. From there we kept moving and nothing as exciting happened, a shame the journey east was more eventful but it was the bonding experience for us both. We came out of the journey knowing each other a little better, after fun, fights and fulfilling experiences which would last us another lifetime. Which incidentally was exactly what I had in mind because within two days of being back at the manor our vacation from our vacation was over.

Bella seemed to thaw during our time together, of course most of her affection for the boy went the same way as most of her bones during that incident with Victoria but even more so after Helena. I supposed Helena was the girl Bella bestowed all her love, affection and obsessions onto before sending her off in the most brilliant murder-suicide scene I have ever had the privilege of helping to enact. So the first insight into our new lives was in defiance of the preceding ones, while brilliant Helena was tempered with her own dependence on Mercriss and so it was removed.

A life of obsession following crime was rewritten to just be about crime, possibly because Bella had been ensnared by our days as private detectives but wanted to experience the committing crimes part. There's only so many times she can work out it's me before the scene becomes boring, though in respect to the dear girl she made it engaging enough to repeat for quite some time. To that end we contemplated a thrilling crime ending in tragedy. A novel of an idea spanning 17 years, my requirement for the inclusion of the number seven was met with some resistance but tradition will always stand.

The characters however had a twist, we would be independent of each other and rivals but at the same time would take our quirks and exaggerate them into defining features. Possibly we were stealing ideas from other forms of media but very few of them could hold a torch to our ideas. For example Bella would take her contempt of Edward and extend it to all men, her criminal enterprise would be a female only affair. I would take my perfectly rational, reasonable and sensible love of silk which falls short of the word obsession Bella used, and mould it into a man who was polite at all times and only wore the finest silks in the world. Bella remarked I would be playing a criminal version of myself, she has not yet inherited the eloquent wit and sarcasm that comes with playing these roles.

Now a competitive edge was indicated towards the end of our discussions and as the Swans and Silks came to fruition things tilted further in that apparent direction. By the time we had chosen our location and chosen our homes we already had plans to outdo the other. While I benefited from experience in the field, having enjoyed the prohibition era immensely, my superiority was negated by my lack of knowledge on modern trends. Bella did not have such a problem, having embraced them during her travels and was more than able to move quickly and will less skill perhaps but she was learning awfully fast and by the time a month had rolled by we were on an equal footing.

In the words of my favourite play of the 20th century; days are made of moments, all are worth exploring, many kinds of moments, none are worth ignoring, all we have is moments, memories for storing, and I have yet to find a finer summary of my lifestyle. So my narration is less about building up to a single, beautiful moment of great drama but rather revealing little moments which should build up to the finale in all its electrifying glory.

I can recall standing on a dock, dressed in an electric blue suit lined with the silk I refused to leave the comfort of. One hand held a long, gold tipped cane, while the other gently held a cigar which with some difficulty allowed a steady stream of smoke to escape from my thinning lips. It was the only light one could see for quite a distance if one was not paying attention to the vast, twinkling city which surrounded me like a prophetic crown.

I had spent the preceding weeks in the underbelly of it, as had Isabella whose name had been chosen for its natural elevation and dramatic effect. I had not left the comfort of my name in some time and instead I was referred to as a Silk, an odd name perhaps but one that encapsulated the mystery surrounding our quirks.

"Boss, there's a truck pulling up." I had chosen a number of former gang members to begin my ascension to the underworld, how Bella was getting on with all female policy was beyond me, and I found them to be easy and willing to join once their existing leaders and gangs were beheaded.

"Sir, not boss sir," I corrected my earliest lieutenant who did not last three months if memory serves, he was already planning his little coup which I dismantled without any of the mercy he deserved. A pity in many ways, it was a crying shame to get blood over that suit.

We are at the docks to purchase weapons, they were uncivilised things perhaps but they were unavoidable. The crimes I would orchestrate would all be universally based in civility but we cannot escape the uncivilised elements of existence. Regardless of that sad fact we proceeded.

I had dressed all my boys in crisp black suit jackets, cotton blue shirts and plain dark trousers. The earliest rivals would laugh, of course within a year or so there was little of them of left to laugh but they would laugh none the less as the gentlemen began. Already I had taught them how to behave, what was and was not acceptable under my rule which boasted generosity in payment but severity in punishment. They would form lines and allow me to walk through the middle, where our smuggler awaited looking as if he did not quite accept this as a real event.

"Good evening," My greeting normally extended to names, however quite wisely this man had not provided us with one. He was a light skinned man, about thirty at a guess and most likely was not high up in whatever operation we had reached out too, I quickly deduced he was armed and tapped my cane twice on the floor. The boys didn't react, but prepared themselves for whatever was to come.

"Yeah, whatever…do you have the money?" I doubted he would be as polite and well-mannered as myself but he couldn't even make the pretence of trying. He just looked bluntly, eyes brimming with judgment and waited.

"It depends on whether or not you have what we asked for," My eyes studied the vehicle before us; keys in the ignition, engine still running and every suggestion he would run the moment we handed him the value of our order. I wondered if they had even brought what we had requested, though in that moment I noticed a string of wires that might have belonged to one of those satellite type devices, it was wise of him to hide it, just unwise to assume his cliental would not be perceptive.

"I am a man of my word, I have exactly what you deserve." The moment turned from a deal, to a death as my cane hit the floor three times in quick succession. A second later the air was alive with sound and our contact hit the ground before he could even process exactly how many bullets had entered his body.

"We were betrayed gentleman, our heavy weapons were not intended to reach us the evening. Get in the van please, I am afraid we are going to have to personally take this up with the management." I growled in an order which was obeyed without question.

The foolish man did indeed have a GPS I believe it's called and thanks in no small part to his inability to drive effectively we were led back to his superiors. Two hours later we left a very unsavoury warehouse with three less men, a very large laundry bill and all the weapons for an army. Those we could not carry were burned along with the warehouse and what remained our betrayers.

The moment helped shape this character, not least because I would find out three years later that Bella herself had organised the betrayal. She had recruited a network of women who needed a way out, one of them was the long suffering girlfriend of our betrayer who had told him we were not worthy of trust and too weak to strike back at him. Her information was wrong but it did briefly embroil us in a bitter conflict with other gangs and Bella was able to build her empire slightly faster.

That is not however why I love that evening's moment, no I focus on it because it shows an earlier man being able to command the confidence of gentleman and attack a much larger entity. Of course my very nature gave us the advantage but it also helped us grow. While Bella thrived a division was created between us which would influence the rest of the conflict with Silk and Isabella, or Silk and Swan as our gangs would be known as. She would be blessed with numbers and size while I was bestowed experience and expertise in a smaller more manageable form.

Bella herself will explain the endings and beginnings of such characters and do so shortly, it seeming apt for her to explain the events which somehow escalated our conflict and added an organic and almost rule breaking element to what was to come. Though if my love of speech may be indulged a moment longer there is another story which may yet add the intrigue to our criminal dealings and it involves a generic bank robbery turned into something spectacular.

There were three banks that generated the most revenue and profit during our time in the city, and of the three of them only once commanded my interest. Its marble floors, stone pillars and classical paintings all granted an illusion to another era which created an admirable contrast with the computers and modern elements resting atop wooden desks. It was during my less vulnerable second year in the game and with not many left expansion was key. I had caught up to the money generated by Isabella but did not possess the scale of her influence, a state of affairs I resolved to change.

I have little idea what the bank and their clients made of the suited men wearing plain black masks, though I do know that once I entered the room all gazed turned to me; bringing back wonderful memories of the audiences I had performed to on the stage floor over the years. I fired three times into the air with a rather heavy weapon and most of the unfortunate souls within lowered themselves to the floor.

"Ladies and gentleman I beseech you to stay on the floor to which most of you already have sunk. We wish no ill will or harm upon you, our goal is not your money but the insured money held by this bank. Please do not be alarmed." We brandished our weapons, the silent alarm had already been dealt with and that gave us an almost leisurely time to draw this out. I had brought six gentlemen with me, two began bundling the money kept with the cashiers; leaving alone the final bills as removing them would trigger another alarm. Tracers were thrown to the side and within a minute we had what we came here for. My eyes however fell on someone moving slowly towards a desk, someone I assumed was trying to get away and resolved to approach them

"We're ready sir." I was about to join them, when I noticed the woman had strained blond hair which seemed to morph into a darker colour as…I knew the hair.

"Isabella." I breathed and quick as a flash she turned round with a smaller, but more manageable weapon and placed it to my head.

"Don't move Silk, I've heard enough about you to know where to ensure attention. Now tell your men to back off or I'm afraid your ending will be a very _impolite _affair. Swans." As she spoke several women, all wearing wigs on closer inspection rose as all attention was turned on our duet.

"Behind you gentlemen." I muttered, the gentlemen saw and within a moment we were all holding each other hostage. Isabella held a gun to my head while the gentleman and the Swans faced off against one another. Perhaps me being held hostage was more of an ideal phrase.

"Now I appreciate friendly competition, especially when the competition doesn't actually amount to much but maybe if you gather up all that money you sorted for me, and place it in my awaiting hands everything will work out." She spoke slowly, clearly and with every intention of pulling that trigger as together we took full advantage of the moment that had inadvertently created.

"Isabella my dear, your swans are currently facing a force even they would not be able to take on. They may be apt infiltrators but the choice seems simpler, we leave with what is ours and you can pick through the remnants." I hissed through a civil and polite tone while wondering how best to escape this, the moment was unplanned, unscripted and yet perfect in almost every way.

"I fear that without a leader, the morale of your dear gentlemen may plummet so low that we would be almost equal footing. It would be entirely equal if not for their weapons compensating for what we both know they lack." She didn't even look at them, she was maintaining her contempt of men quite well and as we gazed into each other eyes, locked in forced contempt there was a flicker of enjoyment and pride in mine.

For a while it looked like we would be confined to this state, waiting to see which of our entourages would act first. Then out of nowhere, we heard sirens. A momentary distraction which allowed me to force the weapon pointed at me up, throw it to the side and dodge Isabella's swings. Everything exploded on that cue, rifles and pistols fired and bullets shattered everything in sight. The police burst into to find us entrenched behind pillars, desks and underneath windows; bitterly fighting.

Their arrival gave us the opportunity to escape, their entrance was closer to the Swans and attention was moved away from us. We managed to slip away from our rival and by the time the authorities noticed our disappearance we had already fled. A diversion of six vehicles masked our actual escape and before long we were in the wind. Celebrating our winnings and escape, but I toasted the moment in silence as it brought all the planning we had put into our feud into the public domain.

The world could us see us both now, and the war between Silk and Swan had only just begun.


End file.
